OSM_1015

[Mature content. No rape]
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"Mr. Archer!" She hurried her footsteps after the cop, who seemed to have already memorized the way out of the small two-story house.

"It's Adrien, not Archer," he said, not bothering to turn around and look at her as he turned the door knob.

"Fine." She rolled her eyes. "We need to talk, " she said, following him out of the house and closing the door behind her.

"I had enough time to spend with a dunderhead like you," she heard him say, and she fumed.

"How dare you?!" She fisted her palm furiously as she saw him walk past the little gate. "You son of a chameleon!"....

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In a world where mythical creatures like werewolves, vampires, and elves exist alongside humans, a long-standing war has left humans living in fear and captivity. Elves, once thriving, have become extinct due to the ongoing conflict. Alicia, the last surviving elf, is raised by Mrs. Anderson, whom she believes to be her biological mother.

However, when Alicia confronts a man named Adrien, whom she calls Mr. Archer, tensions rise. Adrien's apparent disdain for Alicia triggers a fiery exchange. Unbeknownst to Alicia, her unique heritage as the last elf will soon become a central focus in a world where mythical beings and humans clash.

This story promises intrigue, conflict, and a journey of self-discovery for Alicia as she grapples with her identity and the ongoing strife between mythical creatures and humans.

Hunting Down the Last Elf

"Careful, little elf," Adrien murmured, his voice a velvet growl that skimmed over her lips, dangerously low and full of promise. His breath fanned across her skin, warm and intoxicating, brushing her like a warning… or an invitation.

Alicia's heart thudded in her chest. Her breath came shallow, and her lashes fluttered, but she didn't look away. She couldn't. Even though her body tensed and heat flushed her cheeks, her eyes stayed on his, wide and unsure—but unwavering.

A quiet sound rumbled from Adrien's chest, deep and dark. A laugh, perhaps—but one with no softness. Only hunger.

His mouth hovered near hers, close enough to taste. "Every time you test me like this," he said, voice dipping into something almost dangerous, "I get closer to proving you'll never walk away from me."

And then—slowly, as if to test her right back—he reached down and picked up one of the bunny-shaped apple slices. He held it between his fingers and raised it to her lips.

Silly Excuses